Bottoming Out

I'm cruising fast on a motorcycledown this winding country roadAnd I pass the gravel on the foot of the hillwhere last week I fell off

There's still some oil by the old elm treeand a dead squirrel that I hitBut if I hadn't left, I would have struck you deadso I took a ride instead

Bottoming outbottoming outBottoming outbottoming out

My doctor says, she hopes I knowhow lucky I can beafter all it wasn't my bloodmixed in the dirt that night

But this violent rage, turned inwardcan not be helped by drinkAnd we must really examine this and I sayI need another drink

Bottoming outbottoming outBottoming outbottoming out

I'm tearing down Route 80 eastthe sun's on my right sideI'm drunk, but my vision's goodand I think of my child brideAnd on the left in shadowsI see something that makes me laughI aim that bike at the fat potholebeyond that underpass